Fire and Wind
by amberpire
Summary: Sebastian moves forward, lips brushing Ciel's as he speaks, igniting sparks across his tongue. "Yes, my Lord." ;Ciel/Sebastian; Post Season Two.


**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Kuroshitsuji._

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Forty years has not changed the London sky. Not even a little.

Like spilled ink, the black of the horizon leaks overhead, drowning out the sun. Ciel Phantomhive stands with his hands splayed on the railing of a balcony, the evening wind moving through him as if he were a ghost. It is not that he has forgotten what being chilly feels like; he has simply learned to ignore it.

The young demon narrows his lone eye at the sleepy city below him. Windows are darkening, one by one, consciousness extinguishing into sleep, and Ciel struggles to remember how peaceful dreams used to be. Of course, he sleeps, but his dreams are even more restless now than they were when he was human. Forty years is not a long time, not for a demon, and the echos of his humanity cling to him as soon as his eyes close; like hungry children, the grasp of their fingers becomes tighter and tighter if he tries to shake them away.

Sebastian tells him that this will pass.

The fashions have long since changed since 1889, and yet, Ciel has only adjusted his state of dress in very minor ways. His outfits are still stiff and dark. There are still too many buttons and ribbons and layers, and he refuses to exchange his top hat for one of those ungodly fedoras that are becoming so popular. The boy raises his upper lip in a sneer, a pale hand raising to grip the black hat adorning his head and cradling it against his chest. He runs a finger along the brim and sighs into the wind.

_It will get easier, Young Master_.

Ciel swears those words are said to him on a daily basis and maybe if it was not Sebastian saying them, he would be annoyed by now. As it was, the small demon could not find it in himself to feel anything negative towards his butler, even when he was being a pain. He holds the top hat out, running his blue gaze over it for a moment. The fabric of the bow wound around the middle is old and fading - he has yet to allow Sebastian to purchase a new one to replace it. It is one of the many sets of fingers that clawed into him at every moment. Ciel turns slowly, dropping the hat on the handle of the balcony door. Orange light from within seeps out, as if trying to join the ink in the sky; a blurry painting.

His gloved hands flatten over the railing once more, spreading out. This time, he focuses on the cool breeze, the promise of winter in its icy blow, and he wonders if he were still human, would his cheeks be red? His nose? Would his teeth come together in a chatter of bone against bone?

For a fleeting moment, Ciel feels it - it runs through him like water, filling him up, and a quiet gasp slips through his lips as a shiver trembles down his spine. His eye closes. Perhaps it is just another set of fingers reaching out, clawing from the inside to grasp that crisp breeze and hold it inside of him somewhere. Maybe that is not such a bad thing, he thinks absently, fingers curling around the railing. Maybe he does not want to forget everything so quickly.

"Young Master."

Eyelids peel back to lower once more to the rooftops of London below him. A choking automobile spills smoke into the air as it rumbles by. Ciel watches it disappear around a corner, sensing more than feeling his butler at his back.

"It would be wise for you to head back inside." A hand rests on Ciel's shoulder, the touch warm, contrary to popular belief. It is only natural that a being that was spawned from fire would carry around such a heat.

Ciel possesses that same warmth, and within him it fights to sate that shivering wind.

"It is cold and getting late. The Young Master needs rest."

The boy does not turn to look at the butler, nor does he shift away from his touch. If there is anything that quiets the conflicts within his bones, silences the cries, pushes back those desperate fingers, it is Sebastian's touch. Ciel does not know why, but he does not question it, either. It has always been that way, since their contract was bound more than forty years ago. Ciel has learned the hard way to simply appreciate things as they come.

"Sebastian." Ciel lifts his head, his single eye peering through his veins at the chimneys and rooftops that spread before him like an ocean. His fingers coil around the railing. "Tell me. Am I truly a curse?"

The only sound for several moments is the wind singing through the buildings. Then, another hand is on his opposite shoulder, and both are sliding down the length of his arms. A gasp akin to the one he made earlier regarding the chill shudders past his lips as a hot chest meets his back, hands resting atop his own. Sebastian's head is inclined toward his ear, lips moving against the hollow. "My Young Master is the best I have ever had. There will never be a contest."

Ciel can feel the muscles around the older demon's lips pull into a smile against his skin and he thinks somewhere in the back of his mind that the heat is going to overcome the chill. Fire seems to be a constant in his life, both mortal and otherwise, always coming back to him. The flames erupting under his skin seem like too much to ever be snuffed out.

It is probably silly of the former Earl to hold Sebastian's words of forty years ago so close to himself. But they echo in his dreams when he fights against his own consciousness, and the eyes of his butler seem to brand in the back of his eyelids because they are always there. The boy swallows, the action far too hard to follow through. He hates thinking like this; his mortal life was behind him. In fact, he would go so far as to say that he was never meant to be human, that if such a thing as destiny existed, then all of this was meant to be.

The fingers of humanity are hard to pry off once they have locked on, but Ciel has yet to find anything Sebastian cannot break.

"Sebastian." Ciel spins in the man's arms, dark teal bangs playing with the wind as he turns. The snoozing image of London does not compare to the red seas of Sebastian's eyes he is met with, drilling into him through slices of ebony hair. His gaze darts down only once, to linger on parted lips split into a small smile before locking like a deadbolt back into crimson depths. "Silence my thoughts. Now."

The smile on the pale demon's lips broadens into a smirk. "Yes, my Lord."

Ciel's thick hair fills the spaces between Sebastian's long fingers as he tugs his head forward, the older demon's lips swallowing his Master's gasp as they mold against his own. Ciel's eyes fall heavily shut, smothering that cool wind inside of him. Lithe arms lift and circle about the taller man's neck, bringing their chests together, fueling fire with fire. Sebastian's free hand curls around the slender slope of Ciel's hip and pulls him forward, pinning him there against the balcony railing.

The white plane of moonlight spills on their heads and they are one with the painting of the sky.

It is Ciel who pulls back for breath, though the moment is brief - Sebastian is on him almost immediately, his fingers unwinding from Ciel's hair to slide down his Master's chest. He lifts the boy with far too much ease, his body a feather, thin legs wrapping around his middle as Sebastian turns back into Ciel's room. His foot catches the door to the balcony as they enter, not once unlocking his lips from Ciel's. There is a soft thud of a hat hitting the wood floor following the click of the door.

Sebastian knows his orders well - Ciel's mind is blissfully blank, only instinct at this point. The mattress meets his back, legs tightening around Sebastian as a tongue of fire forcefully meets his own. Something soft settles in his throat, the sound silenced by the other demon's mouth. A chuckle vibrates Sebastian's chest as their lips separate softly. Ciel's eye flutters open, the room a bit fuzzy, Sebastian slowly coming back into focus.

"I hope I have silenced the pesky thoughts of the Young Master." A hand sweeps forward, gloved fingers slipping under the ties of Ciel's eyepatch. The black accessory slips away and Ciel gradually cracks that eye open as well. The older demon's hands are working on the fastenings of his shirt, easing through the ribbons and buttons as easily as if it were a children's puzzle. The skin of his chest meets the cool air with a gasp Ciel cannot stifle, only for the warmth of his butler to snuff it out again. "For what kind of butler serving under the Phantomhive's would I be if I could not manage that?" The corner of the demon's lip raises into a tight smirk, a gloved hand raising to slip between his teeth. The ivory gloves join Ciel's patch beside them.

"S, Sebastian." The word is breathless as it tries to leave Ciel's throat with conviction, but there is no helping it, really. Hot hands are roaming over his chest, back creating a slow arch as it raises from the mattress. It is as if Ciel wants to absorb every flame from that fire, as much as it would kill him to admit it aloud. "You - you did not answer my question." Another chuckle rumbles from the man above him, his eyes flashing before him. His head disappears and Ciel feels lips pressing against his sternum. His thoughts scatter, strewn about the confines of his skull like paper in the wind. The kisses trail down his trembling torso as his eyes squeeze shut. "I order you to tell me, honestly, am I truly a curse?"

All touch ceases like a hard breath on a candle. Ciel's eyes open to find endless red peering down at him, the demon's hands planted on either side of the pillow Ciel is resting on. Sebastian's lips are toying with a smirk. Knives of black hair dangle, the soft tips brushing Ciel's cheeks. The proximity makes it hard for Ciel to think straight, though that was the order given, was it not? Sebastian has yet to fail him.

"Yes, Young Master. You are indeed a curse. However." A hand lifts from the pillow, the star on the back of Sebastian's hand covering one of his eyes. "I find it is a curse that, with time, becomes more and more ... interesting ..." Sebastian's hips shift forward, pressing into the heat puddled between Ciel's legs. The boy gasps hard, the sound shattering in his lungs. "And, so, Young Master, all that I desire is for you to continue to bewitch me, and I will never leave your side."

Breathing is becoming something of a job. Ciel's breaths are heavy and labored and maybe it is his imagination, or the bits of humanity within him calling out, but he swears he feels a flush swim over his cheeks. Sebastian beams.

"Young Master, are your thoughts quiet?"

Ciel blinks. A calm hand raises, fingertips grazing the smooth skin of Sebastian's cheek before the boy's fingers lace into a field of black hair. He watches in a dazed kind of awe as Sebastian's lips widen.

"No," Ciel says. "Silence them."

Sebastian moves forward, lips brushing Ciel's as he speaks, igniting sparks across his tongue. "Yes, my Lord."

/

Ciel sleeps draped over a naked fire, but he dreams of the wind.

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**A/N:** _This anime consumed what was left of my life in the course of about five days. I hardly left my room. My parents were becoming alarmed at the amount of Japanese screaming coming from my room._

_Anyway, this is my first spin at these two. More to come, I'm sure._

_Please review!_


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